


No comment?

by CookieCloud



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: First Kiss, Getting Together, IronStrange Gift Exchange, M/M, Mute Tony Stark, Muteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:33:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28532964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CookieCloud/pseuds/CookieCloud
Summary: On a mission gone slightly awry, Tony is hit with a spell that steals his voice. Now he has to adapt to being mute and rely on Stephen Strange to come up with a way to give him his voice back.And maybe he gets to know the man a little better in the process.Written for the prompt: Give me mute Tony. May be because of some spell or something but imagine no Tony rambles :_:
Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Comments: 25
Kudos: 219
Collections: IronStrange Gift Exchange 2020





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**Author's Note:**

  * For [sarcasticfirefighter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasticfirefighter/gifts).



> A gift to the wonderful [sarcasticfirefigther](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasticfirefighter) who is usually my beta reader. So, since this is a gift for her: not beta-ed.  
> This was so hard to do without her :D

“Fuck!”

“Language,” Tony sing-songed across the voice channel.

“Just shut up, Tony,” Natasha shot back, clearly out of breath.

The city was in utter chaos, debris falling from the skyscrapers. The hostile sorcerers were much too agile for the non-Airborne heroes. They were chasing after the group unable to catch up, while the rest of the team was in hot pursuit, weaving through the air in between the buildings, evading and throwing punches in almost equal measure.

Bright red and orange spells were whizzing through the city, intersected by scarlet mist and a red and gold armor.

The comms fell silent except for heavy breathing and the repercussions of blasts that hit too close.

“Anyone feel like having BBQ afterwards?” Tony panted into the comms.

“Shut the fuck up, Stark,” Wanda gritted angrily.

A few moments later, the clang of something hitting Tony’s armor could be heard and the red and gold beacon crashed to the ground heavily.

“Tony, you okay?” Natasha wheezed, picking her speed up a little more as she saw him fall, still about a block away from where the fight had moved to now.

Tony gasped and picked himself back up, getting on his feet again. He opened his mouth to shoot a snarky reply over the comms, but nothing came out of his mouth.

He coughed, rasping his throat before he tried again, yet no sound emerged.

The others were getting worried as the only thing they heard were dry sounding coughs.

Steve spoke up next, an undercurrent of worry straining his voice.

“Tony, check in.”

Tony shook his head and looked up at the sky. They were nearing the end of the fight, but they didn’t have time to waste right now.

He pushed his own dread down and fired his thrusters, shooting back up into the air. He gave the slightest pause, making an okay sign towards the approaching group on foot, before he joined the fight again.

He dodged past the whip crashing through the air right where he had been a second ago and barreled straight into the magician casting it, smashing him to the ground. As he didn’t get back up again, Tony sped off to deal with the others left.

However, their own sorcerers had made quick work of the group that had rained down on New York. Most of them were scattered on the ground, with their hands bound in glowing orange bonds.

The on foot Avengers had taken care of any stragglers that had been torn out of the air.

“That’s the last one,” said Doctor Strange, landing softly on the ground in front of the other Avengers, one man levitating behind him who was promptly dropped next to another unconscious enemy on the ground.

Tony landed next to Strange, a cloud of dust and small debris whirling up as his thrusters cut out. His faceplate snapped back and revealed a face glistening slightly with sweat.

“Did the mic in your suit cut out?” Steve asked, surprise obvious in his tone.

Tony provided the whole team with tech and they very rarely had to deal with problems regarding their gear. Which was to say it hadn’t happened at all in at least two years.

Tony shook his head and opened his mouth to speak, but just like before, even though his tongue and throat were moving, nothing could be heard.

Steve frowned as he watched Tony with a worried crease in his brows.

Natasha stepped closer, looking over Tony with a grim expression.

“What exactly was that, the thing that hit Tony?”

She directed her inquisitive gaze to Stephen Strange.

He shrugged a little, leveling a cool expression on the billionaire.

“I didn’t see it. I was a little busy. Does it hurt when you try to speak?”

Tony shook his head, wishing he could throw an insult at the aloof sorcerer. He hated doctors.

“Probably a spell then.”

Stephen made a quick hand motion, fingers contorting slightly before a round mandala shimmered to life in front of Tony’s face.

He flinched away just the slightest bit, however he had the feeling that everyone had noticed anyway. He also hated working with trained spies and people with superhuman senses.

Strange hummed. “Yes, definitely a spell.”

When he didn’t provide any further information and Wong just stared doubtfully and a little incredulously at the side of Strange’s head, Tony rolled his wrist impatiently in a way that he hoped to portray that Strange should go on.

“I don’t think I can reverse this. I’ll have to find a counter to this specific type of magic first,” he elaborated.

Then, without further ado, he opened a portal and stepped through it, Wong walking inside after him.

The ring closed to leave a slightly dumbfounded and angry Tony standing in the streets of New York, the other Avengers’ eyes uncomfortably diverted.

Oh, he already hated this even more than all of other things together.

Tony pointed first at Steve and then motioned around them with one sweeping gesture.

There was a moment of silence as Steve was clearly working out what that meant.

Natasha quickly interjected, “Yes, we’ll take care of this.”

Tony nodded at her and then let the armor bleed back over his face, lifting up into the air and heading towards the Compound.

* * *

Tony kicked the office chair, hard. It spun around its own axis wildly, sliding away from the angry engineer with a squeal, before it crashed into the concrete wall of the lab.

“Boss, maybe you should write down what you want me to do?”

FRIDAY’s voice was gentle and inquiring, but Tony’s hackles rose all the same.

It had been barely twenty-four hours since he had been hit with the spell, but he could already feel himself going mad. He relied on his AI for all of the tedious tasks that he could easily take care of by telling FRIDAY what to do while he busied his hands with engineering work.

His brain was still capable of juggling five tasks at once, but without a quick and efficient way to relay his orders, his progress was slowed to inacceptable levels. But he had only two hands after all. And both writing and signing required the use of his hands, not that he knew how to use sign language.

Given that it was only going to infuriate Tony further, he wasn’t planning on learning it.

He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it out of its carefully crafted style but he couldn’t care any less in that moment.

Tapping one finger against his wrist, FRIDAY dutifully recited the current time to him.

He sighed and made his way out of the lab. He didn’t want to deal with this any longer than he had to, and Wanda had no idea how to deal with foreign magic, so his only chance were the sorcerers living in Bleecker Street.

* * *

Stephen took a deep breath as the front door rattled under the force of a metallic gauntlet. He descended the stairs unhurriedly and opened the door to an angry billionaire storming into the Sanctum.

Tony was fuming, pointing first at the watch on his wrist and then jabbing his finger into Stephen’s chest.

Strange just calmly raised an eyebrow, hands crossed behind his back as he patiently looked back at the smaller man.

Tony narrowed his eyes at him.

They stood like that for a few seconds in utter silence, until Stephen’s lips gave the slightest twitch of a corner.

Tony mutely snarled at him and Stephen was surprised when he suddenly found himself being dragged up the stairs of the Sanctum by the lapels of his tunic. Tony had one hand clenched in the fabric and Strange had to be careful not to stumble, a surprising force behind Tony’s grip.

Once they reached the top of the stairs, Tony let go of his tunic and made a wide, sweeping motion with his hand that seemed to encompass all of the Sanctum’s main floor.

“Very fascinating, I’ve been here before,” Stephen drawled, composure regained now that Tony had let go of him.

Sooner than he could react, Tony had snapped forward and snipped his fingers against the sorcerer’s nose. A few seconds and a flick of a wrist later, Tony found himself back in the foyer, below the stairs.

He sprinted back up as fast as he could, glaring at Strange who still stood on the main floor, arms still behind his back, looking at Tony with absolute calm.

Tony regarded Strange’s composed stature, the seemingly relaxed look in his eyes and the serene expression. However, there was also a dangerously attentive glint in his eyes that gave Tony pause.

He had the suspicion that Stephen didn’t like to be questioned or rushed or manhandled in his own home, even if he hadn’t protested verbally so far.

He didn’t know the other man all that well so far, except for some superficial observations based on the interactions they’d had during Avengers-related situations.

Stephen Strange was usually clipped and brash, had a sharp tongue and equally sharp wit. He felt he was above everyone else, knew better than everyone else and he wasn’t afraid to show just how much he thought so. Actually, as long as Stephen’s ire and irritation weren’t directed at Tony, he found it quite amusing.

Stephen Strange definitely had a talent for finding all the right buttons to push to irritate someone with maximum effect, no matter how little he knew that person, and he used that talent generously.

So, Tony took a deep breath, before he slightly motioned to the sorcerer.

Stephen waited another moment, then released his arms to his side.

“I’ve been looking for a remedy for the spell but haven’t found one so far. I have a meeting with a -,“ there was a slight pause before Stephen continued, “- friend, granting me access to their library. Hopefully they’ll have something more useful. Wong has also been looking for a cure, but it doesn’t seem like there is one in any of our own libraries.”

Tony closed his eyes for a moment, before he pointed at his watch again, this time less aggressively and hopefully with a vaguely friendly expression on his face. He wasn’t certain that he managed it though.

He was frustrated, annoyed and angry. Every interaction that he couldn’t avoid took at least twice as long as usual and he was seriously missing the verbal outlet for his irritation. It meant that all of that energy was bottled up inside him and he could feel himself drifting into a constant state of tension with an undercurrent of barely restrained aggression.

The only positive thing was that he couldn’t verbally let that pent-up aggression out on people who didn’t deserve it. It was only a small consolation.

But at least it seemed like Strange and Wong were actively looking for a cure. He just had to place his trust in them and be patient.

Tony was terrible at both trust and patience.

He sighed and held his hand up to his ear, thumb and pinky stretched out, looking at Strange.

There was the hint of an amused smile as Strange replied. “I don’t have a phone.”

Tony rolled his eyes and let out a breath as loud as he could. Then he turned around and hopped down the stairs. From the corner of his eye he thought he saw one corner of Strange’s Cloak inconspicuously waving at him, but he wasn’t completely sure.

He left the Sanctum calmer than when he had arrived. He was still irritated because he was unable to help himself, but it was appeasing to know that they were working on a solution. And maybe a few well-placed donations could speed the process along further.

* * *

Tony tapped his fingers impatiently on the tabletop, ready to be done with this ten minutes ago.

“Does Tony not want to weigh in on the decision?” T’Challa asked.

Tony threw his hands up in exasperation and buried his head in his hands after that, elbows placed on the table.

Steve cleared his throat uncomfortably, throwing a pitying, fleeting look in his direction before he averted his eyes back to T’Challa.

“Stark has been hit with a spell. He’s – “

He cleared his throat again, looking at the folder in front of him. “Mute.”

There was a short pause where no one said anything, until T’Challa responded, “Ah. I see.”

Tony glared at each of them in turn, even if no one was meeting his eyes. Then he unlocked his StarkPad and typed quickly.

_I’m mute for the moment, but I’m not brain dead. I still have opinions!_

Only when he forcefully slammed the pad down in an upright position did the others look over, all of them silently reading his words.

“Well, what do you want to say-” Bruce abruptly broke off, then corrected himself and asked instead, “What do you want us to know about the proposal?”

Tony felt like slamming his head on the table repeatedly. The way people corrected their choice of words after they had spoken, like he was some frail thing who couldn’t handle being faced with his predicament, was at the tip of the iceberg of things making him want to hide in his lab and not come out again until Strange or Wong had found a counter spell.

He pulled his pad close again and started typing, fingers flying furiously over the virtual keyboard.

The others waited for Tony to finish writing. They couldn’t see what he had written as long as he was still typing and the room fell into complete silence, bar the tapping of Tony’s fingers against the screen.

After about ten seconds had passed, Natasha sighed dramatically and admonished, “Cut back on the sarcasm Stark and just get to the point.”

He threw her an irritated look, his fingers never slowing down as he did so. He had learned when he was still a little kid how to type fast without looking at his fingers.

Inwardly, he was throwing increasingly versatile curses at every occupant of the room. They were talking about politics, about changing the document that had followed the failed Accords.

How they expected him to be brief enough to be done in a few sentences, when he was not only speaking for himself but also for Peter, when they had to take into account that some of the people signing these documents would want to stay anonymous, when there were legal hoops to jump through to ensure that any one of the 172 member countries was covered, was absolutely beyond him.

Had he been able to speak, Tony would have told FRIDAY to stream the text he was typing to everyone else’s StarkPads as well, so they wouldn’t be idly waiting for him to finish. However, he only had two hands.

Tony was seriously considering building himself an extra set of robotic arms and hands, with a neural connection to be able to finally multitask properly again. But his time was limited, and the research still needed to enable a functioning neural connection to his brain was immense.

Also, he didn’t really consider it a great idea to connect an external device directly to his brain. He was Tony Stark and he was great at building things, but no technology was without fault.

When he was done with a rough overview of the topics that Tony still wanted to address again, he held the pad up for the others to see.

They were skimming it quickly and he could see their shoulders drop. They were not anywhere near done on this topic.

Clint sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Stark, how about you just collect all of that in a written complaint and we can discuss it once everyone has familiarized themselves with that?” he asked.

Tony drew his pad back, about to type a retort that no they would definitely not do that when Steve beat him to it.

“Yes, I think that’s a good idea. We’ll reconvene next week to discuss the changes Tony proposes. Dismissed.”

With that final word, Rogers stood from the table, the rest of the Avengers following suit with relieved sighs and mutters of thanks to Clint.

Tony snapped his fingers, trying to get their attention as he had now typed out his refusal to end the meeting here, but the sound was drowned out by the scuffle of the others leaving the room.

Tony narrowed his eyes at Steve, seeing in the guilty way he hunched his shoulders and how his gaze flickered to Tony briefly that he had heard it after all.

Tony closed his eyes for a second and then collected his StarkPad and his copy of the proposal, the numerous marks in it still undiscussed.

He pushed past Steve out of the door, making sure to bump his shoulder into Steve’s to let him know just how much he disliked Steve’s reaction.

If he had to look at Steve any longer though, Tony was afraid he might hit him, just because he had not other way left to appropriately voice his anger. And no, Tony was not flinching away from all of these phrases whose use was second nature to him.

Tony made his way back down to the lab, wishing he didn’t have sliding doors just so he could kick the door and hear the satisfying crash as it bounced into the wall.

Pepper was inside his lab, placing a new stack of paperwork on his desk. He breathed deeply before he stepped through.

Pepper wasn’t his assistant anymore, so if she was here, it wasn’t to drop off things for him, she wanted to… Well, she wanted to talk.

“Hey Tony,” Pepper greeted him with a smile.

He walked over to the desk and dropped the paper in his arms so he could have his arms free to type a response.

_Hi, Pep._

After a moment of hesitation Tony typed more.

_FRIDAY, please read what I’m writing aloud._

“You’ve got it, Boss,” FRIDAY answered immediately.

FRIDAY’s voice sounded nearly simultaneously as Tony typed on the pad.

_They’re all driving me crazy, Pep. They have no patience at all and they’d rather have me send them mails than wait for me to type a response. They don’t even look at me, like they can’t bear to see me anymore. They’re treating me as if I’m unable to take care of myself._

There was a sad smile on Pepper’s face as she softly admonished, “Tony, do you really want to hold impatience against someone else? We both know that’s a little hypocritical.”

Tony leaned against his desk and tipped his head back, groaning with as much force as he could without a voice.

Pepper came to stand in front of him, one hand sliding into his hair, gently brushing through it.

Tony straightened his head and looked at Pepper, calm and steadfast as always. She smiled at him more openly now, with understanding but not pity.

Tony allowed himself to relax under her hands, letting his forehead sink against her shoulder.

“It’s not forever, Tony. I’m sure Doctor Strange will find a counter for it soon. As you said, he’s quite brilliant.”

Tony opened his eyes for a moment to type a reply on the pad still held in his lap.

_Please don’t remind me I ever said something nice about that guy. I’ll deny it to my dying breath._

Pepper laughed quietly, hands still roaming through Tony’s brown strands.

“You can’t fool me, Tony. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how much you enjoy the way Strange annoys Steve. You like him. Even if you can’t admit that yet, it’s only a question of time.”

Tony snapped his head back to regard Pepper with critically narrowed eyes, shaking his head vehemently.

Her lips were still drawn up, her confident expression never faltering.

“Mark my words, Tony. It’s going to happen.”

She drew her hands from his hair to his cheeks, stroking her thumbs over his skin once before she finally drew away completely.

“Just do me a favor?” she asked as she stopped in the door of Tony’s lab.

He tilted his head to the side to prompt her to go on.

“Promise not to murder anyone in the Compound until Strange has reversed this?”

Tony was glad for Pepper’s intuition and tact, for her not using the words ‘fix him’. And yet, that wasn’t a promise he could make in good consciousness.

_I promise not to leave evidence_ , he typed instead.

Pepper smirked, then she turned and left, her red ponytail swishing with her confident steps.

* * *

A week later, Pepper strode into his lab again.

He looked up at her and waved one hand in greeting, then tilted his head to the side in question.

“Hey Tony,” Pepper answered. “I wanted to talk to you about something. Something that Rhodey and I both thought about.”

Tony frowned and set the tools he’d been working with down on the workbench, motioning for her to continue and giving Pepper his full attention.

The slight hesitation before Pepper continued told him that he wasn’t going to like what she was about to say. In preparation, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and shifted his weight to one side.

Pepper carefully mapped his movements with her eyes but didn’t comment on his defensive stance.

It hadn’t passed him by that Pepper, who was usually looking at paperwork or other important things when she talked to him, had stopped doing just that since he’d lost his voice. Instead, she observed him carefully, read the little cues he gave her and interpreted them usually correctly.

He was grateful for it. He was sick of people avoiding looking at him out of pity and it meant he needed to spell out less text, needed to rely less on FRIDAY picking the right inflection when she read out his words.

“I think it would be a good idea if you started learning ASL.”

He was already reaching for his pad with an angry frown when Pepper quickly continued.

“Hear me out, Tony. I’ve seen the way the others act around you. They don’t meet your eyes, they try to jump ahead and finish your sentences for you, they rephrase their sentences to avoid the topic and apologize like they stepped on your foot every time they use the word say. I can also see how much it grates on your nerves.

“Tony, you’re constantly in a bad mood, you’re alienating yourself and I think you’re disappearing. You haven’t left your lab in two days.”

Despite Pepper clearly wanting to continue, Tony started typing on his pad. Once FRIDAY started reading, Pepper paused to listen.

_What good is learning ASL going to do me? You and Rhodey, you’re not the problem. But for all the people who don’t look at me anyways, it’s not going to make a difference if FRIDAY translates my text or my signs._

Pepper sighed. “That’s different, Tony. And I think if you started signing, even if the others couldn’t understand the signs, they’d look away less. But that isn’t the point.

“The point is that you make what you express your own words again.”

When Tony frowned at her uncomprehendingly, Pepper breathed out and stared at him with pleading eyes.

“Just because you can’t speak doesn’t mean you cannot use your own voice.”

She paused to let those words sink in and Tony didn’t interrupt her this time, his pad held loosely in one hand.

“And let’s not pretend that we know when those sorcerers will find a way to get your voice back, because it’s been more than a week, Tony, and they haven’t made any progress so far.”

Tony took a deep breath and let it out through his nose. He knew that Pepper had a point. Tony used sarcasm to bring most of his points across, it was his main source of stress relief and his way of dealing with people who were not keeping up with Tony’s brain.

Without it, he had been feeling wrong-footed, which was just another thing piling up on his terrible moods. Having FRIDAY read out what he wanted to say wasn’t the same and it never would be.

He felt like he’d been put in a cage, more so by the reactions he got from those he talked to than the actual impairment. Signing what he wanted to say didn’t guarantee that that feeling would go away or even diminish, but it was worth a try.

If nothing else, it might give him an opportunity to do something about the situation other than sit and wait idly for someone else to come up with a solution. It might make him feel less helpless.

Which was probably the most infuriating of the toxic cocktail of feelings sloshing around in his insides.

He nodded at Pepper, raising his pad back up to type, _Fine. I’ll consider it._

She smiled at him then frowned at the phone that started ringing. She took one look at the caller ID and then excused herself with an apologetic smile, answering the phone as she moved out of Tony’s lab.

He didn’t hold it against her, Pepper was a busy person. Running a multibillion-dollar company was a time-consuming task. There was a reason why he’d given that responsibility away.

And Tony had other things to do as well. With one look at the clock he pushed off his desk and made his way through the Compound to the gym. It was time for an Avengers training session.

He had his pad tucked under one arm as he walked into the room. As always, everyone else was already present and had started exercising.

Tony was never on time for the training sessions. It wasn’t his style. He wasn’t the kind of person to arrive early and then wait for everyone else to show up, twiddling his thumbs.

His time was too valuable for that.

Once he’d entered, Natasha regarded him with a nod and left Scott, whose posture she’d been previously correcting while he sparred with Clint.

Tony walked over and placed his pad down beside the mat Natasha had moved to. They started warming up with easy, slow going punches and deflections, circling around each other.

Once they were ready, they started sparring in earnest, Natasha letting Tony come at her. She didn’t hold her punches and Tony knew that every place she managed to hit would have a blooming bruise by tomorrow.

When she swung around suddenly, he braced for her leg to come swinging at his head. However, he miscalculated, and her foot hit him squarely in the chest instead, forcefully pushing the air out of his lungs.

His grunt was cut off too when she used his moment of unsteadiness as he stumbled back slightly to dive after him, her arm wrapping tightly around his throat and then bringing him down on the mat with force.

Despite the blow being dampened by the soft material beneath him, his head started spinning as it connected painfully with the ground, Natasha leaning her weight on his chest and one arm to immobilize him, grabbing and pulling back the other arm with her extended legs.

Her weight made it hard to breathe and he’d expelled all of his air when her kick had landed. He could feel himself choking on nothing, mouth opening and closing in a desperate attempt to get her off him, but the gasped words of _Stop_ and _get off_ were soundless, airless little things that didn’t manage to raiser her attention.

Natasha was still breathing heavily, waiting for Tony to give up, her hair plastered to her face with sweat, obscuring her view of him.

Tony strained his arm, trying to pat the mat in a sign of surrender but both his arms were immobilized completely.

He gasped, trying to draw in air, his vision starting to swim, throat straining against Nat’s arm still wrapped tightly around his throat.

“Nat! Let go!”

The command was snapped sharply through the gym, but Tony was too occupied with managing the panic swirling around his brain to register whose voice it was.

After another short moment, the weight on his chest disappeared and his throat was released.

Tony rolled from his back to his side, drawing his legs close, arms held out to keep him from flopping on his stomach with the violent coughs that rasped out of him. His lungs burned with the strain of too harsh, hurriedly drawn in breaths.

He could hear the frown on Natasha’s face as she murmured, “Tony didn’t say that he –“

She cut off abruptly when she realized her mistake. He could also hear her dry swallow and feel everyone’s attention now on him. The gym was plunged into absolute silence except for Tony’s struggling, since everyone had stopped what they were doing.

When someone took a breath as if in preparation for speaking, Tony vehemently shook his head, fighting to quickly get his legs back under himself.

“Are you ok, Tony?”

Steve.

It was all too much. Pain and anger and fear and incredulity were chasing each other around Tony’s head and he couldn’t deal with it right at this moment. He needed to leave now and get away from these people.

His legs were still shaking as they carried him out of the room as fast as they could. His breathing was still labored, heart thundering in his chest and he could hear his own pulse echo uncomfortably in his ears.

He walked along the corridor leading away from the gym with hurried steps, but he couldn’t shake that feeling that had sunken into his bones. If something happened, he couldn’t scream for help. He couldn’t command FRIDAY silently. Not without his pad in his hands.

He needed to learn ASL asap and he needed to have his suit with him, right now.

He started breaking out into a run, sprinting down the hallways towards his lab, slithering into the room on unsteady feet as he lunged for the container housing his nanobots.

Once he’d attached it to his chest with shaky fingers, he spun around, making sure that no one had followed him down to his lab. His eyes flicked nervously around the empty hall leading up to the lab, then he took a deep but shaky breath, consciously trying to slow the beat of his heart.

When he glanced around his desk for something to occupy himself with and distract him from his still cramped stomach, his eyes fell on a few packages that had been placed there. They were packages originally sent to the Sanctum in New York. He wasn’t quite sure how they had reached his lab, since only Pepper and Rhodey were authorized to enter it.

Tony tilted his head up to the ceiling, not because that’s where FRIDAY was, but because it had become their wordless sign that Tony was directing a request at her.

“Boss?”

He smiled at the calm, neutral voice, grounding him in the here and now and reminding him that even if he couldn’t scream for help or resort to verbal defiance and sarcasm to talk himself out of his own panic if he was attacked, in the lab he was never alone.

He tapped one of the packages with one finger.

“A portal has opened, and they were dropped through ten minutes ago. It looked like one of Doctor Strange’s portals.”

With surprise, Tony noted that that was absolutely perfect. Even with FRIDAY here he longed to be around someone right now, someone who would soothe his nerves and chase the shock out of his bones. Someone who treated him the same way now as they did before he had been turned mute, someone who he trusted not to hurt him.

He hadn’t noticed until now that Stephen Strange fit that description. He also wasn’t sure when that had happened, but he could think about it another time.

Now, he needed to get going.

He picked up his car keys and lifted a few of the packages into his arms, then moved into his private elevator, bringing him down into the garage. He stored the packages in the back of his Audi and then got in behind the steering wheel.

The drive over to the Sanctum passed slower than Tony had thought it would, the knot in his stomach still hadn’t dissolved completely. He couldn’t help his thoughts drifting to possibilities of car accidents and being alone in them, unable to communicate.

He sighed a deep breath when he’d reached his destination, grabbing just the topmost of the packages in his trunk and then bounding up the steps to the door of the building. He knocked on it energetically, eager to get off the street and away from the strangers walking through New York.

It was a feeling he wasn’t accustomed to experiencing. Tony had never really been the type to be afraid of being on his own or not having someone there who was protective of him. He actually, usually, found that rather oppressive.

Now though, he was wishing for Strange to hurry up and open the door, just so he wouldn’t have to be alone anymore, so someone else could speak for him when the world wouldn’t listen to written down words.

A second later something occurred to him. What if Stephen wasn’t there? He and Wong weren’t really close, and he didn’t want to meet him right now. Let alone any other sorcerer who he might not even know, especially not now that he realized he had forgotten his pad. It was still in the gym, discarded next to the mat.

The mat which Nat had pushed him down on, immobilizing him, suffocating him and –

The door opened and Stephen Strange stood before him, regarding him with one raised eyebrow.

Tony had a feeling Stephen knew immediately that something was wrong. Which wasn’t really surprising, given that his heart was hammering so loudly in his ears that he was sure anyone standing next to him would be able to hear it as well. His breathing was labored and too quick and his hands felt clammy. Was he sweating?

“Since when is Tony Stark a mailman? Did you get kicked out of your own company?” Stephen asked drily, nodding slightly towards the package Tony still held in his hands, which were distinctly shaking.

Tony was grateful for the fact that Stephen didn’t mention his condition, instead lightening the mood and giving Tony something that he was used to and knew how to deal with. Sarcasm.

It spoke to a decency that Tony was slightly ashamed to admit he hadn’t thought Stephen capable of a few weeks ago. Another sign that Pepper was better at judging people than he was. But then again, if Pepper hadn’t been able to look past someone’s ego and arrogance, she wouldn’t be friends with Tony either.

Tony frowned, thinking how he could communicate a reply without his pad, now that he was here without it.

And before he knew it, Stephen swept his hands and a pen and paper appeared in his hand, which he extended toward Tony.

The engineer accepted them gratefully, placing the paper on the box he was still holding and quickly scrawling an answer.

_I’ve been informed that we have an incredibly picky client who’s sent back everything that was delivered. That’s a bad sign, so R &D has sent me to get a personalized customer feedback form filled out._

Stephen stepped closer to Tony to read the paper that Tony was writing on.

When Tony unconsciously leaned slightly towards Stephen and their shoulders bumped together, the engineer froze in shock, uncertain how Stephen was going to react to it.

He was startled out of his rigor by a touch to his other shoulder, soft and comforting. He tilted his head and saw that it was the red material of Strange’s Cloak, caressing his shoulder with long strokes.

He huffed out a relieved breath, looking back at Strange himself to see the other man smiling down at him and leaning back into Tony’s side ever so slightly.

“I can’t be bought and spamming me with expensive gifts isn’t going to increase the speed with which I work,” the sorcerer responded to Tony’s comment with no real heat in his words.

Tony was quick to scribble an answer.

_Efficiency can always be improved with the right tools. And spamming? Everything I sent is top quality, it’s not some crap that I’ve just left on your doorstep because I’ve got no other use for it._

Strange sighed but the smile curling around one corner of his mouth took all of the sharpness out of that action. Then one of his hands slipped lightly around Tony’s arm, edging him inside the Sanctum and closing the door.

Tony couldn’t help the relaxation that washed over him even if he’d wanted to. If Stephen’s calculating look was anything to go by, he’d noticed the change.

He promptly confirmed Tony’s suspicion.

“I have a strong feeling that’s not why you’re actually here. Care to explain? I assume it’s not to rush me, unless you’ve changed your tactic on how best to achieve that since last time.” Stephen’s voice was calm and neutral, _steady_.

Tony held onto it like an anchor point, an assurance of safety in an unruly sea of emotions. Yet, he was embarrassed to admit the reason for coming, which essentially boiled down to him seeking company.

_This house is actually an afront to modern standards of technology._ You _are an afront to them. This is ridiculous, we’re living in the 21st century and you don’t even have a phone._

Stephen sighed more theatrically this time.

“You can stay if you stop bothering me about it,” he murmured with a smirk. When Tony threw him a confused look, he continued, “It’s training day and you can hardly stand the rest of the team on your best days. It doesn’t take much to guess it’s worse now than it is usually.

“So, here’s my deal: You can hide out here if you want, if in return you stop pestering me about upgrading the Sanctum.”

At the end Stephen extended his hand out to Tony in a show of trust he didn’t expect at all. It left him feeling slightly wrong-footed, because he was more than aware of the scars marring Strange’s hands and how protective he was of them.

Which led to him simply accepting Stephen’s handshake, where he might have otherwise attempted arguing.

Stephen smiled a genuine, wide smile at Tony.

“Great. Follow me, you can stay in the library if you want.”

They both made their way through the Sanctum, Tony trailing a few feet behind the sorcerer and taking in the building that, so far, he hadn’t seen more than the entry hall of. And maybe he should not have accepted the deal after all, because everything they passed looked absolutely ancient.

When they entered the library, Stephen pointed him to a high-backed, dark brown armchair, then conjured a cup of steaming tea and held it out to Tony.

Tony thought about protesting because what was the point of drinking anything that wasn’t coffee? However, he heroically refrained from complaining, meaning it wasn’t worth the effort to write that down.

So instead he accepted the tea and placed it on the ground next to the armrest, afterwards letting himself flop down into the armchair.

He quickly ripped open the package he was still carrying and after one more glance at Stephen which the sorcerer pointedly ignored, Tony sighed and resorted to taking the StarkPad that had been in the package for himself, throwing the carton over the chair’s back where it disappeared with a loud clatter.

Stephen threw him one scolding look and then sat at his own desk a few feet away from Tony. It was a sturdy, antique wooden desk and Stephen had his side turned to Tony, brooding over scrolls and books scattered widely on top of it.

Tony sat sideways on the armchair, one leg stretched out on the ground, the other dangling off the armrest. The pad was lying in his lap and he was gesticulating in front of it.

After a few minutes, Stephen spoke up.

“It’s not permanent, stop practicing ASL.”

Tony looked up to regard Stephen, but the other man was still focused on his books, not even glancing his way.

He typed a reply on his pad, letting FRIDAY read it out again. Okay, yes, he had integrated FRIDAY in Strange’s StarkPad, and he wouldn’t put it past the sorcerer that he knew and it was one of the reasons why he had refused to accept the pad.

_You understand ASL?_

“If you’re asking whether I learned to sign or read signs, then no,” Stephen answered absentmindedly, flipping a few pages in the book he was focusing on.

When Tony didn’t type an answer and instead tilted his head and looked at Stephen, he eventually continued.

“We have a translation spell for ASL, casting it let’s me understand the signs.”

Tony frowned a little, then his fingers started tapping against the screen.

_There are barely sufficient digital databases for my AI to teach itself ASL, how do you have a translation spell for it?_

“Most people who come to Kamar-Taj are broken in one way or another. There is barely an impairment that spells haven’t been created for.”

Tony’s eyes briefly flicked to Stephen’s hands, then he focused his attention back on his pad, copying the gestures displayed there.

Stephen glanced over finally, then snorted and turned his gaze back to the books.

“Spelling your name is absolutely useless, everybody knows who you are.”

Tony’s mouth quirked up in one corner.

_Jealous?_

Despite FRIDAY’s voice lacking the snarky tone that Tony’s would have certainly had, Stephen laughed quietly.

“Certainly not. I can do without everyone trying to crawl up my ass so they can have my money.”

_That’s because you don’t have any._

Stephen hummed ever so quietly. Under his breath he muttered, “And I’m a better man for it.”

Tony frowned. He knew that Stephen Strange had had money during his time as a neurosurgeon. Not the kind of money Tony had, but enough to swell in small luxuries and indulge in most material pleasures.

He considered for a moment whether he should let it go, but Pepper’s words were echoing somewhere in the back of his mind, telling him that it was just a question of time until him and Strange were good friends.

And Tony trusted Pepper’s judgement of people more than he did his own.

_You were a doctor, you saved lives. Doesn’t sound like a bad person to me._

There was a sharp glint in Stephen’s eyes as his head quickly came around to regard Tony, mouth set in a grim line. “I _am_ a doctor.”

Tony swallowed and bit his tongue slightly. It wasn’t any use to prevent words from flowing out of his mouth, but the pain made him think more clearly for a moment, grounding him.

He had done the same thing that all of the others did to him, the same thing that had infuriated him so much over the past days.

He had assumed that just because Strange had lost a part of himself, an ability he once possessed, that he was not everything he’d been before anymore.

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger, the other hand quickly sketching out one word.

_Sorry._

Tony wished he could say it in his own voice, make the inflection clear and make Stephen understand just how much he meant that single word.

He was wishing that he could do just what Pepper had told him he could still do if he learnt ASL.

He opened his eyes again to squint at the pad in front of him. He thought he remembered the sign, but it wasn’t opened there anymore.

He looked Stephen directly in the eye and sat upright in the chair, placing both his feet back on the ground. He lifted one hand to his chest, made a fist and circled it over his chest.

Stephen’s stern gaze relaxed slightly, his brows coming down from their drawn position. He cleared his throat and finally turned his chair to face Tony fully.

“Yes, I was saving lives as a surgeon, but that doesn’t mean that I was a good person. I didn’t do it for the sake of saving people.”

There was a small break before Stephen added, almost like an afterthought, “At least not in the end.”

Tony stared at him for a while with neither of them saying or signing anything.

Eventually he picked up his pad again, typing, _We all wish we could kick our past self’s ass. The important thing is that we learn going forward._

Stephen regarded him, his eyes widening slightly. His gaze flickered across Tony’s face, taking in every miniscule feature or motion, as if he wanted to commit all of it to memory.

Eventually he hummed, then turned back to his desk with his brows drawn together in a slightly worried crease.

It looked like some kind of ghost was haunting him, but Tony didn’t want to prod any further. He could see that it was a sensitive topic and he knew exactly what it felt like when people kept poking around in open wounds.

So, Tony shifted himself back into his previous position in the armchair, head coming to lie against the backrest.

When he eventually fell asleep there, Strange got up and regarded the peacefully nodded off engineer.

He drew his hand up and clenched it into a painful fist, his hand shaking with the uncomfortable effort. He rubbed his fist in circles across the tunic covering his chest, staring down at Tony, thinking, I’m sorry too.

Then he draped a blanket over Tony’s form and went back to the desk with renewed vigor, determined to find a reversing spell for Tony’s muteness quickly.

* * *

_You can’t be serious!_

“Tony, I don’t want to risk gambling with your life. None of us do,” Steve said emphatically, including the others who stood behind him with a sweep of his arm.

Tony felt betrayed. Actually, that was putting it mildly.

Steve, Clint, Natasha, Wanda and Scott were standing opposite him in the Compound’s gym. Once he’d entered, they’d all stopped what they were doing to face him, coming closer together to form a united front.

And then they honestly had the gall to tell him that while Tony was mute, he shouldn’t come on missions anymore. Like he was an invalid, like he was a _hindrance_.

Even if he’d been able to speak Tony wasn’t sure he had words to express how he felt.

His fingers were pressing angrily against the screen, hitting with loud and too forceful taps against the glass screen which echoed in the otherwise silent gym.

_You can’t bench me! I’m a part of this team and I should be out there just as much as any one of you!_

FRIDAY’s voice as she read Tony’s words was loud enough to make Scott flinch.

“We think it’s too dangerous. It was a unanimous decision,” Steve replied calmly.

Tony glared at him with passion while he typed.

_UNANIMOUS?! Just because I don’t have a voice, I don’t get a voice anymore, huh?_

Steve winced slightly but he stood his ground.

Then Natasha decided to take over.

“Tony, it’s just a pause. We’re not taking you off the team, you’re just not on active duty while this isn’t solved.”

Tony switched his attention to Nat, teeth bared in a silent snarl before he started signing with his free hand, the left one holding his pad by his side.

He held up the middle finger of his right hand to Steve, the other fingers clenched into a fist, then pointed that finger at Steve.

Next, he held his right hand sideways in front of his chest, fingers spread to the left. He drew his hand slightly further right, about as far as his shoulder, closing them during the motion. Then he repeated his action with the middle finger towards Natasha.

Finally, he held his hand with his palm directed away from him at chest height, thumb and pinkie held away while the other fingers were bent towards his palm. He shook his hand twice from left to right, then turned around and stormed out of the room.

He was glad for the manually opening door to the gym, as he could crash it loudly into its lock when he left.

He didn’t get far though, as suddenly an orange portal opened just a few feet in front of him, Strange sticking his head through the fiery ring. His expression was exhilarated, but it fell quickly when he saw Tony’s murderous face.

Instead of just leaning through the portal he now stepped out of it, only stopping once he stood right before Tony, close enough to touch.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, a dangerous edge in his voice. It took the engineer a second to realize that it was protectiveness.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, his anger settling into something calmer. His ASL wasn’t yet at the point that he could fluently make sentences, but he signed the verb _kick out_ , hoping that Stephen understood what he was saying.

His right arm swiveled up to smack the side of his right hand against the palm of his left one.

Stephen’s blue eyes were staring at him, blinking in shock. “They’re kicking you out of the Avengers?” he clarified.

Tony nodded, then frowned and held one hand up, palm facing down. He tilted it slightly from one side to the other.

Stephen watched him closely and repeated, “sort of.” There was barely a moment of hesitation before he elaborated, “are they kicking you out temporarily?”

Tony nodded with a small smile this time, relieved that Stephen was patient enough to listen and also adept enough at understanding Tony that he immediately jumped to the right conclusions.

There was an impish grin that spread over Stephen’s face which made Tony look at him with comically raised eyebrows. The sorcerer leaned closer conspiratorially.

“Give me ten minutes. And then, please, let me watch when you verbally destroy them,” Stephen prompted, his eyes aglow with anticipation and mirth.

Tony’s mouth dropped, gaping at Stephen. And there was a dark kind of humor there, bubbling just beneath the surface, but also honesty.

When Stephen extended his hand to Tony, face still only inches away, the engineer didn’t hesitate to take it. Stephen grinned widely and pulled the other man through the portal after him.

They stepped into a relatively small room with two cushions placed on the ground. Scattered around the room were hundreds of candles, flickering and bathing the room in a soft glow and a color that resembled that of Stephen’s magic. There were no windows and no other source of light.

Stephen let himself sink down on one of the cushions, gracefully sliding into a lotus position. The portal closed behind Tony and he dropped to the other cushion, opposite Stephen, his knees protesting slightly.

Tony mirrored Stephen’s posture, unsure what else to do. Stephen watched and waited until he seemed satisfied with how Tony had situated himself.

“I’ve finished the translation of the spell. This shouldn’t take long. But I need access to your throat and chest.”

Stephen’s voice sounded vaguely dry, making Tony wonder whether he was uncomfortable. What exactly did that spell entail? He had the crawling suspicion it might be more intimate than Strange was willing to admit out loud.

He sighed, resigned to go along with whatever Stephen proposed. It was a small price to pay after all.

He looked down at himself, still dressed in a tight shirt, like he always wore in the gym. He tugged slightly on the seam just beneath his throat, throwing Strange a questioning look.

The other man slightly shook his head. “I’ll need skin on skin contact. You have to take off your shirt.”

Tony breathed deeply. He wasn’t thrilled at that prospect. Tony Stark was by no means a shy man, but his chest was heavily scarred and if it could be avoided, he’d always prefer people not seeing it.

He called Pepper’s words back into his mind, then determinedly grabbed the hem of the shirt and pulled it off.

Stephen leaned closer, Tony’s and his knees touching lightly with the change. His eyes made a quick detour over Tony’s chest, but luckily, they didn’t linger. Nevertheless, Tony couldn’t help but notice the flush that crept up to Strange’s cheeks. He smirked ever so slightly. It looked kind of adorable on the younger man’s usually stern face.

Stephen’s hands settled on Tony, one curling slightly around his throat, the other placing the tips of its fingers right above Tony’s sternum. Stephen closed his eyes and started drawing complicated figures and shapes on Tony’s chest, the hand on his throat gradually tightening.

Tony clenched his jaw, Stephen’s grip turning uncomfortably tight. But he didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. He trusted Stephen Strange.

Stephen’s eyes opened, searching Tony’s face, the color of the sparks trailing over Tony’s chest in the wake of Stephen’s fingertips reflecting in them. Tony held the sorcerer’s gaze, making sure that Stephen saw he was alright.

Stephen grunted, brows furrowing. “I’m sorry, this will be uncomfortable,” he warned, eyes still moving to take in every detail of Tony’s expression.

The engineer blinked back at him with trusting doe eyes, smiling encouragingly. Stephen nodded in response, then his hand clenched around Tony’s throat, hard.

Tony felt like he had to gag but he suppressed the urge, forcing himself to breathe through his nose as well as he could. Stephen’s other hand that had previously been drawing patterns on his chest now clamped on his mouth, orange magic trailing ever faster up Stephen’s arms in swirling patterns, as if he was extracting the magic out of Tony.

And he could feel it, too. Like hot wax, sticky and scalding, being pulled out of his trachea. He wasn’t quite sure how long it lasted, but at some point, he had closed his eyes, clenching them tightly against the pain.

The first painless breath that he took in through his nose smelt vaguely like disinfectant and sandalwood. He opened his eyes to Stephen still tilted toward him, the hand on his mouth drifting away, its fingers grazing lightly against Tony’s jawline as they retreated. It sent a shiver down his spine.

The hand on his throat released as well and Stephen finally leant away. Tony was tempted to pull the sorcerer right back into his space.

For a while Tony and Stephen just stared at each other, then the sorcerer frowned unhappily.

“Didn’t it work?” he asked, the disappointment resting on his tone like a thick layer weighing him down.

Tony blinked and cleared his throat.

“Worried I’ll file a complaint?” Tony responded. His voice sounded scratchy and vaguely hoarse, but it was the best thing Stephen had heard in weeks.

His face split into an ear to ear grin, the blue of his eyes glistening in the soft candlelight, breath rushing out of him in a relieved sigh.

Tony was smirking, the sarcasm sheltering him like a thick blanket, warming his insides and laying the uncomfortable feelings of the last weeks to rest to be looked at again at a later time.

“You seriously had me worried there for a moment,” Stephen muttered, placing one hand against his own heart, while he held Tony’s shirt out to him with the other.

“Sorry,” Tony sniggered unrepentantly. “I just needed to take another moment.”

Stephen threw him a scolding look, but it wasn’t very effective given that he was still grinning like a madman.

Tony took his shirt from Stephen, letting his fingers glide over Stephen’s as he did, then pulled it swiftly over his head.

“Want to go light a fire under someone’s ass?” Tony murmured flirtatiously, winking at the sorcerer.

Stephen laughed as he got up, holding one hand out to Tony to pull him up as well.

“Nothing I’d rather watch than you setting fire to the Avengers.” His smile was genuine and Tony was reminded of all the times Stephen had annoyed Steve in the past. Oh, now that they knew each other better, they were going to have so much fun together.

Stephen was about to raise his arms to create a portal back to the Compound when the door to the room opened and Wong stepped through. He paused for a moment to take in the room.

“Did you reverse the spell?” Wong’s voice was as calm and neutral as always. Tony wondered whether Wong was any different when he was alone with Stephen.

“Yep, I’m back to my charming ways now,” Tony answered in Stephen’s stead. Wong’s annoyed huff was like seeing the sun after being underground for too long.

Stephen’s lips were drawn up in amusement as well.

“Take this as a lesson Stephen, and finally read the warnings and reversal spells before you cast enchantments left and right,” Wong muttered, then turned around to leave the room.

Stephen’s smile froze on his face, hands clenching at his side. He took in a shaky breath, unable to make his head turn to look at Tony. It felt like someone had dumped a bucket of steaming water over his head. Every muscle in his body cramped, refusing to cooperate.

Wong paused on his way out of the room as he picked up on the sudden tension in the air. He turned around slowly, carefully, looking first at the engineer and then the other sorcerer.

“You told him about it, right?”

When the silence stretched on for another moment, he questioned, “Strange?” There was a sharp edge to Wong’s voice, somewhere between reprimand and disbelief.

Stephen’s swallow was audible in the absolutely still room.

Tony was turned to him, his whole body rigid. “Tell me that’s not true,” he rasped, the roughness of his voice having nothing to do with spells or disuse.

His brows drew together as Stephen still didn’t meet his eyes. “Strange!”

Stephen flinched as if he’d been slapped, head finally snapping up to meet Tony’s eyes.

Tony stumbled back at the expression on Stephen’s face, the truth undeniable. “No,” he rasped, and it couldn’t have been more quiet if he’d still been mute.

“Tony-,” Stephen started, but Tony didn’t let him finish.

“I can’t believe you. I can hide out here?! You’re worse than all of the other Avengers combined,” Tony snarled.

“You accomplished your goal. Mute or not, I’m not going to talk to you!”

With those words Tony turned on his spot, shoving Wong’s shoulder to clear the way out of the room.

Stephen was trying to say something, but Tony didn’t listen, didn’t even stop. He wasn’t sure what was the shortest way out of the Sanctum but he was certain that if he stopped walking now, he would use his armor to smash Strange’s home to pieces.

He could hear steps as Strange tried to follow him and somewhere in the back of his mind it registered that Wong stopped him, urgently telling him to leave Tony alone right now.

He looked up in annoyance when someone tapped his shoulders, only to find the Cloak hovering behind him, waving its corner at him.

Tony sighed. “Just leave it, blanket.”

The Cloak did not accept that as an answer. It flew two circles around Tony then went off a little way down the hall, stopping to look back at him.

Tony hesitated another moment and then warned, “If you take me back to Strange, I’ll punch him.”

The Cloak nodded its collar in understanding and then went off with Tony close behind. After only a few turns they had reached the front door and the engineer smiled at the flying outerwear.

“Thanks, buddy.”

He left the Sanctum, letting the suit bleed over him. He’d had the container on for the planned training session this time, just in case. That already seemed like it was days ago. Only once he was already halfway back to the Compound did he notice that the Cloak was still following him. He stopped midair, regarding it as it faced him.

“What are you, a tracker?”

It shook its collar vehemently. Tony had more scathing words for it on the tip of his tongue, but he remembered the feeling of being unable to communicate. So, instead of sending it away with rude words, he shrugged his shoulders and let it follow him.

* * *

Rhodey threw Pepper a long-suffering glance. She rolled her eyes in response.

Tony had been complaining for days now, five to be exact. Ever since he had found out that Strange had been the one to hit him with that spell.

Since the spell had been removed, all of Tony’s resurfaced ability to ramble had been directed at Stephen Strange. Well, not at him. All of it was about him but Tony refused to meet the man and let him explain himself.

Wong had even appeared in Pepper’s office, pleading with her to make Tony talk to Strange. But since Tony was too stubborn and only kept droning on about Pepper’s intuition having broken every time she brought up the topic, she had dragged Rhodey into it as well, in the hopes that he could get through to their friend.

The first two days had been angry, which had changed to resentment on the third day. And today it had switched to sorrow and misery for Tony’s betrayed trust.

Don’t get her wrong, Pepper was the last person to kick someone while they’re down or to disregard emotions like sadness and heartbreak. But this was ridiculous, because Wong had told her that Strange was just as miserable, if not more so.

It had been some kind of accident apparently but bringing that up to Tony resulted in him sticking his fingers in his ears and starting to sing. Not literally, but it was close.

And if the engineer felt the urge to tear down any more walls in his private part of the Compound, Pepper was starting to fear for the structural integrity of the building.

“He lied to me by omission, basically disabled me and then had the nerve to pretend I was safe at his place,” Tony snarled, punctuating every point he made with a swing of his sledgehammer to the wall between living room and bedroom. Because, all of a sudden, the open-plan living room wasn’t open enough anymore.

Sweat glistened off his skin, the tank top he was wearing was already drenched. The dust and bits of debris from the slowly crumbling wall had settled in his hair and beard.

“And to think I actually felt like it too, it’s disgusting. I actually felt like he heard me, but he didn’t. He’s just a good liar. So, stop trying to push me to listen to his crap, because the only thing that will result in is me punching him.” Another wide swing crashed into the wall.

“Me and Strange are through.”

“Tony, you know as well as we do that that’s bullshit. If you and him were really through, you wouldn’t be mauling -” Rhodey said and Tony interjected tersely, “improving.”

Rhodey continued unbothered. “- your building right now, and you wouldn’t have been moaning about it for the past days. If you care enough to be angry, you care enough to hear him out at least once.”

Tony swung around, seething. “He fucking disabled me, Rhodey. You should be on my side here!”

Rhodey closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. Tony cared, he obviously cared, but he was too stubborn to admit it. Which meant that unless they made Tony give in, this terrible mood was going to continue. For a long time.

And beside the point that Rhodes didn’t want his best friend to be in a bad mood, or to be miserable, there were also selfish reasons for his insistence. Tony was already driving him up the fucking wall and he wasn’t sure how much more of this mood he could take.

A look over told him that Pepper was feeling the same way.

“And what about that cape of his that’s been hanging around here for the last days?” Rhodey questioned.

Tony looked over at the Cloak which was hovering near the glass front of the living room, staring out at the Compound’s lake. It twisted its upper half around 180 degrees when it was mentioned, pointing its collar clearly in Tony’s direction.

“It’s pissed at its owner, and rightly so,” Tony answered. He and the Cloak had actually kind of bonded over the past week, communicating easily in a way that Tony hadn’t been capable of understanding before he’d experienced being mute himself. He had also found himself wondering whether that’s why Stephen seemed to adapt to the situation so easily, because he was used to interacting with a mute artifact that had a conscience and personality nonetheless.

And if Tony enjoyed how the Cloak smelled like Stephen when they cuddled in front of the TV screen in the evening? Well that had nothing to do with the sorcerer. It was just a nice scent.

This time it was Pepper who spoke up. “Tony, if you made a mistake and DUM-E decided to run off with the person who was affected by it, wouldn’t you at least want a chance to talk to DUM-E?”

Tony huffed. “The Cloak is capable of going back if it wants to. It can make its own choices and if it chooses not to go back, I’m not going to be the one to convince it otherwise.”

Truth be told, it wasn’t just that he didn’t want to talk to Stephen, or that he was keeping the Cloak out of petty revenge. He actually liked it, a lot. And he didn’t want Strange to come in and take his new friend away.

That did not mean, however, that he wasn’t aware of it. Strange was the Cloak’s master and he had no idea what exactly that meant. More often than not he found the Cloak staring out at nothing, floating lazily on one spot. And he had the creeping feeling that it was becoming more and more inert.

Maybe it needed its master to stay alive, he remembered Stephen at some point saying that it had floated in glass case for who knows how long, waiting for a new Master.

“At least let him check that it’s ok. Wong said Strange was worried about the Cloak.”

Tony was about to make a sniping remark about Pepper talking to Wong when he was interrupted by the Cloak suddenly soaring over, tilting its collar at Pepper while at the same time letting it droop.

Alright, fine. The Cloak was miserable, he was not blind. But the was a tad selfish, still wanting to keep it to himself.

Yet, he was also above that, not for Strange’s sake but for the Cloak’s.

“Alright, FRIDAY, tell Strange that he can come talk to his cape, but not while I’m-“

It was too late. He glared up at one of the cameras, knowing full well what his AI was doing.

“-here,” he finished and Stephen Strange was already stepping through a portal right into his living room.

The Cloak shivered in excitement, collar raised immediately, swishing more agitatedly on its spot.

If it had a tail, Tony was sure it would be wagging it.

Strange was not wearing his usual garb, instead sporting a plain grey t-shirt with an anthracite colored cardigan and dark jeans. Tony had never seen him wear anything that casual before and somehow it highlighted the dark circles under Stephen’s eyes.

Tony clenched his jaw. That was not his fault. There were a number of reasons why Stephen could look so beaten down and Tony wasn’t one of them.

Stephen threw one longing look at Tony who stood with his arms crossed, mouth set in a grim line, the sledgehammer leaned against the crumbled remains of the wall behind him. Then he turned without saying a word, carefully coming closer to the Cloak as if trying not to startle a frightened animal.

He stopped in front of it and when it didn’t move away after a few moments, he carefully extended one shaking hand to stroke along its fabric, from shoulder to clasp.

The Cloak crowded closer to his touch and chased Stephen’s hand slightly, making Tony sigh inwardly. That was it with his new friend then.

Stephen’s voice was husky as he spoke quietly to the Cloak. “You look tired.”

It nodded its head in agreement, one clasp covered tip reaching for the sorcerer.

“Come back with me,” Stephen murmured, still cautious.

Pepper and Rhodey, the traitors, were retreating, backing out of the room quietly and leaving Tony alone with the sorcerer. He had a suspicion that Pepper had ordered FRIDAY to notify Stephen at the first sign of Tony’s resolve crumbling.

He was surprised when the Cloak suddenly withdrew its tip, backing away a few steps, shaking its collar.

He came a little closer finally, ready to back up the Cloak. Kind of aching for it, actually. An excuse to punch Stephen would be very welcome right now.

Stephen sighed, shoulders sinking defeatedly.

The Cloak pointed one corner first at Stephen and then vehemently at Tony. The engineer raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Yes, I know,” Stephen answered whatever the Cloak had intended to say with that gesture. Tony wondered whether they had a telepathic connection, he’d never asked Strange about it, but somehow he doubted it.

“But I can’t force him to hear me out,” Strange continued.

The Cloak folded its corners in front of its chest decisively.

Tony grinned at the human looking gesture and then shrugged.

“You got one minute, doc. That’s all you get, use it wisely,” Tony interrupted the two, coming to stand a few feet from Stephen.

The sorcerer turned in surprise, looking at Tony mutely for a few seconds. Eventually he blinked and seemed to pull himself out of his stupor, eyes lighting up with new vigor.

Words spilled from his mouth like water. “I didn’t mean to hit you, it was a mistake. The spell was meant for Maximoff and it wasn’t supposed to be that hard to reverse. Another spell intersected it and they melded into something I didn’t expect at all. It knocked my spell of course and it hit you instead.”

While Stephen talked, his hands were waving restlessly through the air as if that would help his explanation and he was approaching Tony, coming closer with every word.

“I never meant for that to happen, I would never cast a spell like that on you. I don’t even mind your talking, I actually-,” Stephen huffed and averted his eyes for a quick moment, before looking back at Tony with absolute sincerity. “I actually missed listening to you talking.”

Tony narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Stephen, not about to give in that easily even if he was quite convinced that Stephen was telling the truth.

“So, you don’t ever want me to shut up? Ten seconds by the way.”

Stephen swallowed and then a familiar note of sarcasm slipped into his voice. “Of course I want you to shut up. But if I were to make you shut up, I would do it differently.”

“Really? How?” Tony questioned flippantly. Stephen now stood right in front of him, their faces only inches apart. Tony raised his head defiantly at the taller man.

What he didn’t expect was for Strange’s mouth to come crashing down on his.

Tony blinked in shock and then closed his eyes, responding once Stephen’s tongue darted out to lick along his lower lip. He parted his mouth, unsure of how else to react at first.

Then a lightbulb went off in his head. He was still angry and he still wanted to punch Stephen, but he also didn’t want him to stop. Truth be told, Tony didn’t want to hold a grudge against him. Preferably, the next movie night he’d not only be cuddling with his Cloak but with the man himself as well.

However, there were much more enjoyable ways to get rid of his anger without sending Strange away.

Tony let Stephen take control of the kiss, enjoying the feeling of it. Indeed, a much better way to shut him up.

When Stephen drew back and was about to end the kiss, Tony pulled the other man’s bottom lip into his mouth. And then he bit down, hard.

Stephen yelped, jerking back, one hand immediately going to his mouth, fingers grazing along his lip. He stared at Tony with wide eyes, but Tony was too good at this game to not recognize the blown wide pupils.

Oh, this was going to be the fun kind of revenge.

He grinned at Stephen, raising his chin in obvious challenge. “I’m still pissed.”

There was only a moment of hesitation, before Stephen dropped his hand and the corners of his mouth pulled up into a confident smirk.

Apparently, they both knew how to play this game.

“I know a more fun way of letting off steam and demolishing your apartment,” he replied cheekily, nodding toward the crumpled wall in the back.

The Cloak quickly turned its back to them, tips held a little way above its collar, as if it was covering its eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> The ASL sign of rubbing your fist on your chest means _sorry_.  
> What Tony signed in the gym means _Fuck you and fuck you too._.
> 
> If you want awesome fics about the Cloak's nonverbal communication, check out [sarcasticfirefigther's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasticfirefighter) series [Of Mischief and Secrets](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1752400), which is written out of the Cloak's perspective.
> 
> Kudos and comments are much appreciated!  
> Thank you for reading <3


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